


In Dreams She Walks

by SophieHatter



Series: 100 Kinks [8]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: #46 Unique to Pairing, 100 kinks, Aliens Made Them Do It, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Intoxication, Off-World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 17:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter
Summary: 100 Kinks: 46. Unique to the Pairing (Aliens made them do it)“It’s Kumabya, I think.” As Daniel said the name of the song, Sam suddenly burst into a loud, off-key, tune. Apparently she could only remember the title as she sung that in place of all the words.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinknevertalks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/gifts), [xbleeple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbleeple/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Smut prompt fic for xbleeple and tinknevertalks.
> 
> 110\. + 111. “Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” “Yes we can.”

This was it. This was positively the last time he or any member of his team, would eat, drink, sniff, walk through, touch or accept the gift of some foreign substance off world. They could eat MREs and power bars and boil all their water for the rest of their days, he didn’t care. They were done with it all.

Just juice. Just juice! Jack glared at Daniel as he walked on the other side of Carter. They each had a hold of one of Sam’s elbows and were marching her back to camp.

Well, trying to. Teal’c had his eye out for any danger because Jack and Daniel were certainly unable to protect themselves while holding the giggling, squirming Major upright.

“No, no, Jack. Carry me baaaaack,” Sam giggled and tried to climb into his arms. If Jack hadn’t had a hold of her she’d have slipped over in the process. “We’re married, you know. Seven times! You’ll have to carry me over the threshold.”

Jack sighed and glared once more at Daniel. Between them they got Sam walking again and Jack visibly relaxed as their campsite came into view. Pausing, they waited for Teal’c to precede them and check the area. When he turned and bowed his head to them, they kept moving.

“Jaaaack. Carry me now. It’s good luck, you know,” Sam wheedled.

He ignored the way she used his first name and they stopped outside the tent that they had set up yesterday and slept in once already. Daniel looked over Sam’s head at him and shrugged and, slipping from their hold, Sam began to walk towards the fire.

“Oh, let’s all sit by the fire. We could sing! And make s’mores.” Sam plonked down by the fire Teal’c had just rekindled and began humming loudly.

“What the hell, Daniel!” Jack gestured towards his normally competent, level headed, 2IC.

“It’s _Kumabya_ , I think.” As Daniel said the name of the song, Sam suddenly burst into a loud, off-key, tune. Apparently she could only remember the title as she sung that in place of all the words.

“Not the song,” Jack hissed furiously. “What the hell was that drink?”

“Fruit juice, like I told you. Some special fruit, one that they save for weddings, but it was a fruit.”

“Was it fermented, DanielJackson?” Teal’c asked, having sat down beside Sam.

“No! I asked that. And you drank it, Teal’c, and you’re fine,” Daniel pointed out.

“We do not share the same physiology. MajorCarter is a human and a woman. I am Jaffa, carry a symbiote and I’m a man.”

“No shit,” Jack muttered under his breath. Sam started to lustily sing a song which he judged to be _Amazing_ _Grace_. He knew this because, like _Kumbaya_ , the title was the only words of the song that she knew. “She’s not going to sleep any time soon. I’ll take first and sit up with her. Teal’c can take second and you can make the coffee, Danny.”

Daniel winced at Sam’s singing. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much sleep, tonight.”

“Hopefully it will wear off quickly,” Jack replied. With a glance towards the fire, he mused, “Maybe it will keep any wild animals away.”

“Anything with hearing,” Daniel agreed and turned towards his tent.

Jack walked to the malp and dug out a small tarp. As he passed by the tent he shared with Sam, he grabbed both their sleeping bags and then made his way to the fire. Spreading out the tarp, he topped it with one open sleeping bag, spreading the other over the large log they had been using as a seat or backrest.

Returning to Sam, Jack gave Teal’c a nod. The Jaffa rose and nodded his respects to Jack and then Sam before turning.

The Major suddenly jumped to her feet and chased after the big man. Gripping his upper arm for purchase, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, T!”

In his calmest manner, T turned and bowed again. “Goodnight MajorCarter.”

She beamed at him and nearly skipped back to where Jack was standing. “Are we going to bed, now?” Her tone suggested that she was looking forward to it.

“No,” Jack replied, slipping an arm around her waist, tonight’s experience having taught him that she both needed his support and his restraint. “Let’s sit by the fire for a while.” Guiding her, he settled them both down, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulders and pulling the sleeping bag around her.

For a moment, he thought that she might sing again but then Sam sighed contentedly and snuggled into his side, laying her head on his shoulder. Jack pushed the thoughts of the frat regs out of his mind. Tonight, this was how he could keep her safe. Enjoying the feel of her tucked into him was just a bonus.

He was relaxing into the good feeling of her against him. The smell of Sam was different. It was her usual products, the scent of the day’s exertion (somehow it always made him want to be closer to her) but mixed in was a tangy, fruity scent. Maybe she’d spilled some of the drink on herself, or maybe it was still on her lips. Jack realised that he should be getting her to drink water, to flush whatever this was out of her system.

Jack was about to get up when Sam grabbed the front of his jacket, holding him firmly in place. “Don’t go,” she told him before reaching up to kiss him.

The fruity smell was still on her lips, Jack could taste it as she pressed into him, her tongue teasing at his closed mouth. It was a near thing, he was already too relaxed by her presence at his side, and he pulled back just as the urge to return her kiss swept through him.

“Jack?” She asked in a tone so innocent and confused that his heart skipped a beat.

“I’m thirsty,” he fudged, his muddled mind unable to come up with a better excuse. Rising, he looked down at her, “I’ll be right back.”

Walking to where they had their KP set up, Jack grabbed the large water can they packed on the malp and both their canteens. Sam’s was already full, so he handed it to her before sitting down. “Drink,” he urged her.

“Why?” She wondered, her face open to him, her eyes wide.

“All that singing and dancing must have left you thirsty, right?” Jack hoped that was true enough for her as he sat back down.

“Thirsty,” Sam agreed and downed a good portion of her water. “And hungry,” she noted.

“I’ve got a bar somewhere,” Jack began digging in his jacket pockets and then stopped as Sam began to giggle. Loudly.

“Not that kind of hungry, silly. Hungry for you.” She reached for his face and tried to pull her down to him.

“Sam,” Jack hissed. “Not a good time for this.” Hugging her, holding her, he could stretch the heart of the regs to encompass that but there was no way, no way, that he could look Carter or Hammond in the eye if he kissed her again.

“Why?” This time Sam pouted as she asked him. “I thought that you liked me. You said you did. And we are married!” She seemed excited to remember this fact.

“Not really, Carter,” he tried to remind her. “Just by custom, not by law.” Fine distinction, he told himself. “And, and, we need to be quiet. Daniel and Teal’c need to sleep.”

Sam giggled, “Oh, they won’t mind. They know we’ve got something special and they keep it a secret.”

“Major Carter,” Jack tried, hoping his admonishing tone and the use of her rank might get her to settle. It was one thing for the guys to look the other way when she was madly building a particle beam to save him or when he was tearing apart Goa’uld fortresses looking for her. But this direct kind of discussion, which she probably wouldn’t remember in the morning, was too much for them to ignore.

“Pshaw,” Sam said dismissively. “Do you even think they can hear us in their tent?”

“Yes, we can,” Came the answer in unison from Daniel and Teal’c.

Which, of course, had Sam giggling again.

Sighing, Jack turned a little away and, by merit of pulling on Sam’s far shoulder, turned her until she wasn’t pressing her breasts into him quite so obviously. He slid his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and, with the soft motions of his fingers massaging her scalp, finally had Sam’s head tucked back on his shoulder.

She hummed with a sound that he hoped was contentment and turned her face into him. She felt soft and heavy against him and Jack carefully reached for the corner of the sleeping bag and pulled it over her, its nearest corner falling across his knees. Sam stirred and murmured something, so Jack resumed his touch in her hair and she subsided again.

This was nice. Her warmth, her smell, the brush of her breath on his neck. It wasn’t the most thorough watch he’d ever kept, but it was easily the most pleasant. He kept moving his fingers through Sam’s hair, feeling a little guilty at taking pleasure in something she wouldn’t remember. But damnit if the closeness of her wasn’t making the fit of his pants a little uncomfortable. Fondling her hair was soothing to him, too.

When Teal’c rose to take his watch, Jack had managed to shift Sam until she was lying down, her head pillowed on his thigh. He still had his fingers in her hair, though, settling his 2IC with a touch each time she stirred.

Teal’c stood and looked down at her and Jack saw the expression that he had long ago begun to think of as Teal’c’s smile. The big man’s eyes softened and the set of his normally firm lips relaxed. T crouched in front of them and looked at O’Neill. “Shall I take your place?”

“Nah. I think we can get her to bed. Would you carry her?” Jack asked.

Teal’c nodded and removed the sleeping bag from over her before scooping up the blonde Major in his arms. Jack rose, his stiff joints popping, and grabbed both sleeping bags, moving around Teal’c and heading for the tent he shared with Carter. Stepping inside, he lay out her sleeping bag and then came back out.

“I need to uh, walk the perimeter,” Jack told him, “But her sleeping bag is ready.” Teal’c nodded his understanding and crouched, duck walking into the officers’ tent with Carter in his arms. Shoot, the man was fit.

When he returned, Jack nodded to T as he passed and then slipped inside his tent. Teal’c had settled Sam down on her sleeping bag and had thought to remove her boots. As Jack stripped down to his pants and undershirt, he spared a thought for Sam, still fully kitted out except for her boots.

Kneeling beside her, Jack carefully slid her out of her jacket and over shirt until she was dressed the same as him, in pants and undershirt. And, well, her bra, he conceded.

There was nothing left to do but try and sleep, so he pulled the flap of Sam’s sleeping bag over her and lay down on his, facing her. He had been so mad at Daniel, at their hosts, for what had happened to her. But the night had ended better than he thought, with a beautiful woman, a woman who he could admit, if only to himself that he loved, asleep in his arms. Sleep came to him soon after that thought and he drifted into pleasant, if not erotic, dreams of sleeping next to her, in his own bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke to the sunlight streaming in the window, clean sheets under her cheek and the smell of Jack beside her. Stretching, she cast a look in his direction and resisted rolling over and rousing him. They’d had a reunion of sorts when he’d arrived home in the middle of the night. Now he needed sleep.

Carefully, she slid out from under the sheets and pulled on her pyjama bottoms and shirt, tugging her long ponytail from the neck of the tee before heading to the kitchen. Setting the coffee to brew, Sam slid a bagel into the toaster before selecting a report from the top of her pile of paperwork. Coffee brewed, bagel toasted, she juggled the plate, mug and report and made her way outside, settling on the deck’s outdoor couch.

Halfway through her slow breakfast, the door to the deck swung open and Jack emerged in track pants and t-shirt, his hair still mussed from sleep. He settled on to the couch beside her, arms sliding around her waist and face buried in her neck.

“Good morning to you, too,” Sam smiled, settling an arm around his shoulders. “I thought you might sleep a little longer.”

“When I haven’t seen you for ten days?” He mumbled into her shoulder.

“I know,” she agreed. Their mission cycles were out of sync and the last six weeks had had them on Earth at the same time for just a handful of days.

“I might sleep if you come back to bed,” Jack suggested, fingers worming their way under her top and his unshaven chin rasping against her neck in the way that made her breath hitch.

Sam let the report slide from the ends of her fingers on to the coffee table and ran her fingers into his hair. “I don’t think sleeping is what’s on your mind.”

“Not true,” and he kissed her neck, “We can sleep after.”

A sigh escaped her as Jack caressed her stomach, letting his hands wander higher until his fingers stroked the curve of a breast. Sam tugged gently on his hair to bring his face to hers and they kissed slowly. Mornings like this made the mission roster bearable. It was, after all, better than the alternative.

The slow kiss roused her, as did Jack’s hand on her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple until she was wishing for more. “Bed,” she prompted and he smiled at her like he’d won. That she would’ve said yes anyway was immaterial to his triumph. Rising from the couch, Jack followed closely behind her, fingers twisted into her waistband. Making it to the bed he fell onto it with her, a tangle of arms, legs and half removed clothes.

As she tried to pull his shirt off, Jack captured her hands and put lips to her wrists, kissing and tonguing the sensitive skin. Sam knew immediately what he wanted and stilled herself, letting her breathing even out. With his lips, he roused the skin of her forearms until he raised goosebumps and then Jack sucked the inside of her elbow until shivers coursed down her spine.

His fingers brushed her sides as he removed her shirt and Sam lay back as he then removed his. The eyes Jack turned on her as he reached for the waist of her pants were filled with love and longing and he held her gaze as he slid them off. Then he returned to mapping her with his lips, exploring shoulder, collarbone, raising her arms so he could lay kisses at the sides of her breasts, all the while his hands were on her, feeling, touching, caressing.

They’d been at this stage of intimacy long enough that Sam knew this was how Jack reacted to long separations, especially when missions had been difficult or life threatening. Mapping her body under his fingers and lips was grounding, something Jack needed to reaffirm that this was what they fought for, both personally and on a galactic scale. There were no words she could say that comforted him more than this ritual and she was thankful for it, thankful that they were long past the days when alcohol had been his succour instead.

This way had its benefits, she contemplated, as Jack’s fingers ran across her stomach, kisses trailing up her breast and lips fixing over the nipple. He drew her slowly into his mouth, tongue swirling over her trapped flesh and she let out a long sigh and reached for him, her fingers resting on his arm. Jack knew so well how she liked her breasts to be touched and he took his time over it, tending to one and then the other until she could feel the wetness pooling between her legs.

“Sam,” he whispered against her skin, lips skating the valley between her breasts and laying down kisses across her belly. Thumbs circled her hips and, when Jack ran his nose through her curls, she drew in a deep breath and released it with a slow moan. Nuzzling her folds made her restless, as did his breath washing over her heated lips, but she knew that was all she would get, for now.

Drawing her knees up for him, Jack ran his fingers along her outer thighs, kissing along the soft insides with wet, tongue swirling kisses that left a warm, cool trail on her skin. The same for her calves, which he cupped in his hands. Jack’s journey ended at her feet, where his thumbs massaged her arches before a kiss was placed in each.

Running his hands over her legs, hips and sides, Jack settled his cheek between her breasts and Sam brushed her fingers through his hair. He would rest there, listening to her heartbeat, fingers caressing her skin, sometimes briefly, sometimes long enough that she thought he might have fallen asleep. This morning, he lingered longer than usual, long enough that she was in danger of dozing, when he gently cupped the outside of the breast he faced and kissed it, then turning to the other.

“My beautiful Sam,” he whispered to her chest and then moved slowly upwards, his mouth meeting hers in the chastest of kisses two naked and aroused people ever shared. He settled his erection between her thighs and Sam wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the other brushing through his hair as they kissed. They moved slowly, lips soft, tongues brushing just barely and Jack brought his erection to her entrance, pressing into her, requiring just the slightest adjustment for him to push gradually inside.

When he was settled fully in her Jack pulled back, rising half up to gaze down at her. It was hard, sometimes, for Sam to accept the way he looked at her at this moment - eyes full of love, his face shining with something akin to rapture.

He had told her that at moments like this he felt like he was a kid again, caught up in the wonder of Holy Communion, that this moment with her was as sacred to him as any ritual. Then he said the words that he had been able to for the past year. “My beautiful wife.”

The reverence lifted Sam and he began to move with slow strokes, taking as long as they both needed to kindle a climax, sharing kisses, caresses, fingers that found those perfect spots that would finally bring them gasping to the edge. His body pressing into hers, Jack moaned her name as she shuddered beneath him and then came within her, his climax as drawn out as the buildup to it.

Lying together, they took their time to move, to speak. Sometimes they slept. Sometimes they curled together and summoned more orgasms other ways. Always, though, the first thing he said was, “I love you.”

“I love you, Jack,” Sam replied as he eased himself to lie beside her, leg over her thigh. She turned into him, wrapping her other leg over his hip, her hand resting on his ribs and brushed their noses together. “Sleep?”

“Sleep,” he answered, his fingers stroking circles on the back of her shoulder until he drifted off. Sam had no option but to follow him into dreams. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Jack woke for the second time that morning, he found Sam still in his arms, although she had rolled over to spoon her back to his chest. These moments still filled him with a hot surge of happiness. Waking beside her, holding her, calling her wife had all seemed out of reach for so long.

It was hard to believe the disappointment he felt when Hammond had offered Sam her own team. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t help but miss her beside him off world, in the tent they shared, around the campfire at night. The rewards, however, were so much better, culminating a year ago in the vows they had exchanged before the very same General.

Gently, Jack extricated himself from their bed and slipped in to the shower. Once washed and shaved, he made his way to the spare room, sliding the bags he had packed last week from under the bed. Checking the way was clear, Jack carried them to the front door, leaving them on the porch where the car service would find them when they arrived.

Returning to the bedroom, he let the bathroom door bang noisily closed and then pretended that he had just finished as Sam stretched beneath the sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned down to kiss her. “Good morning. Time for sleepy heads to be awake.”

“Hmm, this is my second time waking up, remember?” Sam grumbled as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Blinking her eyes until they focused properly, she then narrowed her gaze at him. “What are you up to, Jack O’Neill?”

“C’mon, I have plans for lunch. Up, shower, dressed,” he told her, rubbing his hands together. “C’mon Major, move it!”

She scowled at Jack’s use of his drill sergeant voice and made it clear by the slow manner in which she got out of bed and made her way to the shower that she was doing so under protest.

Jack waited until the bathroom door closed and made the bed, laying out clothes for her to wear. He stepped back, nodded to himself and then made for the kitchen, restarting the coffee. While waiting for it to brew, he collected Sam’s abandoned breakfast and report. After tossing the papers back on her work pile, he made them both fresh coffee and returned, mugs in hand, to the bedroom.

Leaving the bathroom, Sam was towelling her hair when she saw Jack, and the clothes on their made bed. “I repeat, what are you up to, Jack?” When his coy smile offered no answers, she frowned and began to dress. After returning to the bathroom and hanging up her towel, Sam took her mug from him. “A clue?” She asked.

He was so tempted to keep quiet but there was little Carter could ask from him that he would deny. “We’re getting picked up.”

“Picked up by who?”

“A car service.”

She hmmed and sipped from her mug. “When?”

Checking his watch, Jack pretended to be surprised. “Well, look at that. In five minutes. Better finish your coffee.” Getting to his feet, Jack kissed her forehead and called over his shoulder as he exited the bedroom, “And put on some shoes.”

The jeans, soft tee and thick socks that he had put out for her led Sam to one choice - her summer outdoor boots. She had them on and nearly laced when the doorbell rang. Jack’s voice came to her muffled down the hallway and she heard the front door click shut again and Jack returning.

“Ready?” He asked, leaning on the doorframe with a smugly casual air.

“I could be readier if I,” Sam stopped as Jack cut her off and took her by the hand.

“Trust,” he asked of her and she had just a moment to snag the empty coffee mug as he towed her out of the room.

After rinsing the mug and locking the door behind them, Jack walked them to the Towncar that was waiting by their letterbox. The young driver was ready for them, door open and Jack let her slide into the backseat first.

Choosing the middle seat, he buckled in and pulled Sam into his side.

“Do I get to know, now?” Sam wondered, fixing her eyes on her husband.

“Once you figure out our destination, I’ll tell you.”

Sam turned in Jack’s embrace and stared out the window as the car headed into town and then out again. “The mountain?” She wondered.

“No.”

“Denver?”

“Closer than that.”

“Peterson?” Sam’s voice rose, incredulous.

“To the airfield,” Jack confirmed.

“Why are we going to the airfield, Jack?”

“I borrowed a plane.”

“What are you going to do with a plane?”

Jack laughed. “Fly it, of course. What else can you do with a plane?”

She ignored his question and poked him in the thigh. “That’s it, give it up, O’Neill.” Sam had a parade ground voice of her own.

Kissing her until her mock frown disappeared, he pulled back. “We have a week’s leave. For our anniversary,” Jack recounted.

“Yes, I am aware,” Sam confirmed. It had been part of the reason the past six weeks of their mission rosters had been so out of sync.

“So I thought we could go up to cabin. But then I thought that spending two of those seven days driving would be a waste and then,” he snapped his fingers, “I thought ‘what if we could fly?’”

“Ahhh,” Sam replied, playing along. “But we don’t have wings.”

“Yes. It was a tough one to figure out but then, you know what?”

“What?” She put on a spellbound, wide eyed air.

“I remembered I can fly a plane. And that I have many friends who own a plane.”

“Wow.”

Jack laughed as the car pulled into the airfield and he handed his ID to the driver to show at the security checkpoint. “So, problem solved!”

Sam nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “You could have told me.”

Kissing her temple, Jack shook his head. “Nah. Having a secret mission was far more fun.”

“Ah. Black Ops Jack was behind this.”

“A phone and internet free week lies ahead. They’ll have to send someone in a car if they need us.”

“Hang on, I’m not going without my phone.” She was mostly serious, too.

“No incoming calls,” Jack told her, knowing this would have been a sticking point. “Heck, leave it turned off unless you need it.”

The car pulled up next to a touring model Cessna, the most common type of small plane in the world. The driver opened their door and then helped Jack to the plane with the bags before shaking Jack’s hand and heading back to the gate.

Bags stowed, Jack indicated that Sam should take the co-pilot’s seat while he did the pre flight check. In a few minutes, he was sliding into the cockpit beside her and pulling on his headset, asking Petersen’s tower for clearance.

Once they were in the air, Jack circled over Colorado Springs while Sam took in the view below and then turned them towards Minnesota. When Sam’s fingers tangled into his he smiled and keyed the headset to the cabin loop.

“Happy anniversary, wife.”

Sam’s responding smile was everything he’d ever wanted. “Happy anniversary, husband.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Wife,” Jack whispered into her hair as he woke, momentarily surprised to feel a tougher, sturdier fabric under his fingers than Sam’s usual sleep wear.

His eyes snapped open and Jack took in the canvas of the tent above him, the long morning shadows etching a pattern on the fabric.

Taking a moment to settle his breathing, Jack tilted his head to find that, indeed, Sam - Carter - was curled into his side, head pillowed on his shoulder. A brief accounting left him relieved, they were both still modestly clothed in what they had worn to bed.

Reaching for her shoulder, Jack shook his 2IC gently. “Carter.” She moved, but didn’t wake. “Carter,” he said, more forcefully.

She responded the second time, sliding her knee up his thigh and his hand stopped her just in time. Her CO he might be, but he was still a man and when asleep he had as much control over his body’s reactions as the next guy. Or girl.

Squeezing her, Jack wriggled his shoulder and prodded Sam again. “C’mon, Major. Time to wake up and smell the coffee.”

He waited as she stretched again and then gave a wry smile as Carter sat bolt upright.

“What the? Jack?” She looked around the tent, and down at their clothing and let out a sigh of relief that echoed his own. Then her eyes found his and he could see the worry in them. “Did we ...?”

“Sleep?” Jack wondered. “Yes. There was some pretty awful singing and dancing, too, but let’s not relive that.”

“But no ...?” and Sam made a gesture that encompassed the pair of them.

“No,” Jack confirmed. “None of that.”

“Ok.” Sam relaxed a bit, pulling her knees up, probably trying to create a small barrier between them, between how and why they had woken up in the position they did. “I don’t remember much after the first drink. Daniel said it was just fruit juice.”

Seeing her tense up, Jack laid a calming hand on her knee. “I ripped him a new one last night. And nothing happened to you or by you that would bother you. We saw to that.”

“Oh,” Sam winced a little. “Was it bad?”

“The singing was awful,” Jack confirmed, “But you fell asleep on me, which made up for it. To me, at least. Danny and Teal’c will need to extract their own toll for having to listen to it.”

Sam was aghast, “Sir, I’m sorry for my ...”

Jack waved her apology away. “You were under the influence, don’t even begin to worry about it. Besides, you’re very sweet when asleep.”

The look Sam gave him from under her hair was shy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, dropping his voice to a much quieter tone. “The dreams were nice, too.”

Her brow furrowed, Sam was slow in responding and her pause had Jack regretting sharing that private detail with her. “Nice dreams ...” Sam mused, looking at him.

“What?” Jack wondered, recognising Carter working on a problem.

“I had nice dreams, too. Were they ... were we ...?” and she made the same hand motion between them as before.

Jack’s spine straightened as he wondered at her tone. “Yes. We were. _Married_?” He mouthed the last word.

Sam nodded and held up a finger. A single finger. Jack nodded and then made a plane flying motion with his hand.

Mouth open in wonder, Sam blinked at her CO. “The same dream?” She whispered hoarsely.

Jack considered her assumption for a moment and then reached for his boots, pulling them on. Sam did the same and just as they were finishing, they heard crunching on the leaves outside as someone approached the tent.

“Sam?” Daniel asked.

“Just getting up, Daniel. What is it?” She tied off the laces of one boot and began working on the other.

“There’s someone here to see you,” Daniel answered.

Reaching for the zipper, Sam stepped out into the cool morning air. “Who ...?” She began and then she laid eyes on Gwyleth. Yesterday, Daniel had introduced her as the village’s Keeper - a role which seemed to encompass master of ceremonies and local celebrant. It was Gwyleth who had led the wedding ceremony that the team had attended.

Sam approached the middle aged woman and her look fell on a small bundle she had in her hands. Daniel was two steps behind her, ready to translate and Jack had just pushed his way out of their tent, a glance showed her he had unclipped the holster of his sidearm.

Gwyleth smiled and spoke, waiting for Daniel to translate. The local language was a variant of Old English which shared some words and sentence structure. Here and there, Sam thought she understood what was being said, but she waited for Daniel’s translation.

“Gwyleth says good morning and she hopes that your dream walk was fruitful.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Sam made a face at Daniel and he shrugged his ignorance in return. To Gwyleth, Sam said, “Good morning. I slept well and had ... good dreams, thank you.”

After Daniel translated for her, Gwyleth beamed and held the parcel in her hands out to Sam.

“She offers you a dream cake, to share with your chosen and to cement your bond.”

Before Sam could say anything in response, Daniel was talking to Gwyleth again. Jack came to stand beside Sam, Teal’c a few paces behind him, and leaned close to her ear. “I swore after last night, no more wacky local cuisine.”

Daniel listened to Gwyleth’s response and turned back to the team. “The cake has no special properties, it is just a symbol of your commitment.” His awkward expression put Sam, and Jack, on alert.

“What kind of commitment, Daniel?” Jack asked before Sam could.

Gwyleth watched the conversation flow back and forth between the members of SG-1, her beneficent expression wavering as even she could sense the growling undertone of their leader’s voice.

“It’s a bit like - you know how in some weddings the bride throws a bouquet and then who ever catches it is supposed to be the next to be married?”

“Yes,” Sam said, wary.

“Well, here, they have a tradition where single men or women can drink the juice of opeo fruit and they say that it will make you dream of your future happiness.”

“And what I drank last night?” Sam asked.

“Was opeo fruit juice. It was a great honour,” Daniel was quick to tell her.

Sam turned to Gwyleth and smiled. “Thank you for the gift of the opeo fruit juice and for this ...” she tried to remember what the cake was called.

“Dream cake,” Daniel supplied.

“Dream cake,” Sam repeated. “May I ask, is the opeo fruit’s dream a true dream, a prediction of the future?”

Daniel looked momentarily surprised and translated Sam’s thanks and then her question. When the answer came, the tone of his translation belied his curiosity.

“The dream is of a possible life, your chance to walk the future path with the one you choose with a kiss, to find out if you will have happiness with them.”

Holding the cake out to Sam, again, Gwyleth spoke.

“If your dream walk was a happy one, then you share the dream cake with the one you have chosen.” Daniel’s tone changed as he annotated his translation, “I think that’s like a public betrothal. Gwyleth uses a phrase something like ‘dream declaration’.”

“And if the dream was a bad one?” Sam asked.

Gwyleth laughed and shrugged a shoulder.

“Then the cake makes up for your disappointment.”

“Too right,” Jack muttered low enough that only Sam heard.

Sam reached for the cake and took it. “Thank you again, Gwyleth, for the gifts you have given us and for sharing your wisdom.”

With a bow, Gwyleth accepted Sam’s thanks and then excused herself, walking back to the village.

The team crowded around Sam as she peeled back the cloth wrapping the cake to reveal a small, solid roundel of heavy pastry obviously made in a press mould or form. The top of the cake was decorated with a floral pattern that clearly marked two halves, all the easier to split with your dream partner, she supposed.

Raising her eyes, Sam found Jack was fixed on her and the intensity of his expression made her swallow. She barely noticed Teal’c place his hand on Daniel’s shoulder and guide him away, leaving the two officers alone.

“A possible future,” Sam said quietly to Jack.

“At least we know it’s worth waiting for,” Jack tried to inject a little lightness into his words, but failed.

“How long do we wait? Because five years is already a long time.”

“I guess,” Jack pondered, “That is the good part of this. We know it’s possible. And that it’s good.”

“Very good,” Sam said.

“The best,” Jack confirmed, stepping closer, cupping her hands, still holding the cake, in his. “You’re worth waiting for, Samantha Carter, even before we shared a dream.”

That made her smile and the lingering sadness that the thought of waiting imposed mostly receded. “What do we do now?”

“Eat cake,” Jack grinned and he was rewarded with Sam’s laugh.

“Single minded,” she commented to him.

“A quality that you will be thankful for one day. _Wife_ ,” the last word was a whisper.

A hot pulse surged through Sam as Jack conjured their shared dream memory. “I’m already thankful for you.”

The cake was good. Very good. The best.

 

* * *

 

Four months later, when General Hammond offered Major Carter the command of SG-6 he was pleasantly surprised at how easily she and her CO conceded to the promotion.

Immediately upon it becoming official, Jack O’Neill and Samantha Carter submitted a joint request, seeking the President’s dispensation for their marriage. It was not a surprise to George Hammond that the dispensation was granted, not when the United States, and the world, owed its continuing freedom to the pair many times over.

He officiated at their wedding and it was one of his proudest moments. And if there had been a little vague paperwork signed to permit the retrieval of a cake mould from Gwyleth, well, no one would be the wiser and those few who might, would never tell.

And, the cake _was_ good.


End file.
